Six
by gsppcrocks10
Summary: Legend has it that there are only five things in the universe that the Colt can't kill. In reality, there are six.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, loyal followers! I decided to try a superwho thing, so here's what I've got so far. Enjoy! Constructive criticism is incredibly appreciated, and the storyline isn't set in stone yet, so if you have any ideas, go ahead and voice them!

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Sam scoffed, looking over at his brother from the passenger seat. "I don't believe you."

Dean glanced away from the road for a moment. "What?" he snapped, "we've saved two seals, Sam! We've earned a bit of a break! Come on, two days! What's the worst that could happen?"

"Oh, I don't know, the apocalypse?!"

He groaned, resting his wrist on the steering wheel. "Fine, I'll take it down to one day. No arguing; we earned it, especially after those damn vampires."

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair and glaring out the window. Sometimes it just wasn't worth it.

Dean grinned, taking his brother's silence for what it was; surrender. "I knew you'd see it my way," he crowed, putting in a tape and turning the volume up to eardrum-bursting levels in celebration of his victory. The Impala roared down the highway and into the night, leaving the dismal town of Forks behind them.

Arriving at the fair on opening day had been a terrible idea. The streets were packed, the restaurants were full, and all of the motels within five miles had no vacancies. Of course, he wouldn't admit his mistake to his brother.

He climbed back into the car with a sigh. "Well, looks like we're just gonna have to sleep in the car, Sammy."

Sam gave him an incredulous look. "… Seriously, Dean? There's got to be some kind of vacancy somewhere in this town."

Dean gave him a forced grin. "Nope! Sorry, you'll just have to get comfortable in the back seat."

It was obvious that Sam didn't like that idea in the slightest, and for a long moment it looked like he was going to argue with him. Then he gave a resigned sigh. "Fine."

Dean gave him a cheeky grin before starting the car. They pulled out of the motel parking lot in search of a secluded place to park for the night.

"I still don't see why we couldn't have just found another motel further away," Sam grumbled, crawling into the front of the car. He looked disheveled, and rightfully so; Dean had decided that the best way to wake his baby brother up was to roll him out of the car and onto the pavement. Sam, predictably, hadn't been pleased.

Dean rolled his eyes and started the car. " 'Cause I said so. Come on, let's get some breakfast. I'm starving."

Sam sighed. "Okay." He was already running through different ideas in his head to get him back for this.

They pulled out of the empty parking lot and onto the road, both brothers looking out for a place to eat that wasn't fast food or packed to the brim with people. This endeavor proved to be difficult, but not impossible. They finally pulled in at a little drive in restaurant right across from the fairgrounds which, as luck would have it, was only just opening its doors for the day. The place was tiny, about the size of a motel room in fact, and even though it had only been open for a few minutes there was already a sizable line forming in front of the register. Dean wasn't thrilled with the development, but he got in line without complaint.~ Out of habit, he began to scope out the room for potential threats. He could feel his brother doing the same thing beside him, just like their father had trained them to do. They shared a look and nodded. There wasn't any danger here, as far as they could tell.

They got to the cash register, and Dean ordered his usual bacon cheeseburger and a soda. Sam, meanwhile, got a grilled cheese sandwich and a bottle of water.

Dean rolled his eyes after he'd paid, sitting down to wait for their food. "You and your freaking health food. I swear, it's like living with a rabbit."

Sam gave his brother a flat look, pulling out his laptop. "A grilled cheese isn't health food, Dean."

"To you, maybe," Dean said with a shrug, sitting back and watching as his brother set up the computer. "Dude, do you seriously think you'll get wi fi here? Come on, this place is tiny. They don't even have a bathroom."

Sam shrugged, waiting for the computer to boot up. "I dunno, maybe. It's worth a try, isn't it?"

Dean rolled his eyes, glancing around the restaurant again. "The menu says that they have the best pie in the state."

"Probably an exaggeration," Sam said, tapping away on his keyboard.

He shrugged. "There's only one way to find out," he said with a grin.

"Mm." Sam's attention had been suckered by the computer in front of him. Dean's grin turned from one of amusement to one of surprise.

"… You seriously found wi fi in this dump?"

Sam looked at him and grinned. "Yeah. I told you I'd manage it."

He shook his head in wonder, running a hand through his hair. "Damn, Sammy."

The younger Winchester looked rightfully smug as he pulled open Google. Dean frowned. "What are you researching, anyway? We're not on a case."

He shrugged. "I figured I'd look into the history of the fair."

Dean groaned. That was Sam, alright; he never stopped with the learning. "Seriously?"

"… Well, why not? It's not like I have anything _better_ to do," he said, giving him a pointed look.

He huffed. "Sam, you really need to get that stick out of your ass."

Evidently Sam had decided not to glorify that with a response, as he just turned back to his computer screen. Dean was about to reprimand him for ignoring him when the food arrived and immediately captured his attention. He focused on consuming his burger in as timely a fashion as possible, intent on getting pie as soon as he could. Sam rolled his eyes and ate one-handed, using his other one to navigate through various websites about the fairgrounds.

Dean wasn't able to keep his curiosity in check. "Anything interesting?" he asked past a mouthful of bacon and beef.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. The Puyallup Fair started in nineteen hundred by a small group of farmers who wanted a way to show off their livestock. The first year there were only four hundred families in attendance."

"Damn, talk about growth," Dean said, taking a long gulp of his soda and glancing over his shoulder at the massive building across the street that marked one of the walls of the fairgrounds. It stretched several city blocks.

He chuckled, lips quirking into a lopsided smile. "Yeah."

Dean nodded. "Well, awesome." He finished off his burger in a giant bite that he nearly had to unhinge his jaw to get into his mouth and slurped down the rest of his soda, getting to his feet. "Now, pie."

He saw his brother roll his eyes at him as he made his way back into line, looking at the list of pies. There were too many flavors for most people to choose from, but one scan of the menu was all it took to know what he wanted. When it was his turn he sauntered up to the cashier and flashed her a winning smile. "Can I get a slice of cherry pie, please?"

She nodded, ringing him up. "That'll be three dollars, please."

He dug out his wallet, giving her a five. "Keep the change," he said with a grin, and sauntered back to the table.

Sam, meanwhile, was squinting at his computer screen with his eyebrows knitted together like they usually were when he was worried about something. Dean slid back into his seat. "What's up?" he asked, concerned.

"I… I'm not sure," Sam said slowly, not taking his eyes from the screen, "I was looking at some of the old pictures from the fair and this man keeps showing up."

Dean shrugged. "Well, maybe the guy just likes the fair."

"Yeah, except…" he turned the screen towards him, showing two pictures side by side. One was grainy and in black and white, and the other was considerably less grainy and in color. Dean leaned forward, studying them. Both were an assortment of people wandering the fair, and both contained… the same man. He was, to be frank, very attractive, and wore a long trench coat.

"These pictures are from nineteen thirty three and ninety seventy six."

Dean felt something cold and heavy drop into his stomach. "Ghost?" he asked, dreading the answer as soon as the question left his lips.

Sam let out a long breath. "I don't know. With everything with Lillian going on it's more likely to be a demon.

The elder Winchester groaned. "God damn it. Can't we just get _one_ break?!"

The waitress came over and set the pie down in front of him. Dean barely spat out a thank you before grabbing the fork and scooping an unholy amount of pie into his mouth. Sam pinned him with a disgusted look, but he ignored him. Another fucking demon. Fantastic.

"Oh man, I hate carnival music," Sam grumbled, adjusting his backpack. They were walking past a merry-go-round that was, evidently, being tested before it opened later in the day.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh, quit complaining. Loosen up and have some fun for a change, will you?"

"Dean, the-"

"No. I don't want to hear any of that apocalypse demon-killing bullshit. I'm gonna enjoy myself while we're here, demon or not. Now let's go get some cotton candy."

He didn't give him the chance to argue, making a beeline for the nearest cotton candy stand.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam wasn't sure what had gotten into his brother. He'd always been pretty gung-ho about the hunting thing until it had escalated to "saving the world" proportions. Hell had changed his brother, and he didn't like it one bit. He shook his head, watching him wander off to flirt with the cotton candy girl.

Fine. He'd just look into the monster himself.

He took a moment to look around and take in his surroundings before spying an elderly gentleman wearing a worker's uniform next to one of the rides. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. Well, it was a good place to start. He made his way over.

"Morning."

The man looked up, giving him a small smile. "Morning, son. If you're looking to ride, it doesn't open for another half an hour."

Sam shook his head. "No, actually. I was curious about the park, and you seemed like a good person to ask."

The man laughed, eying him with amusement. "It's because I'm old, huh?"

Sam flushed lightly. "No, of course not! I was just-" he shut his mouth when the man raised a hand, chuckling.

"It's alright. I've been working here for close to fifty years now; I know these fairgrounds better than I know my own house. What can I do for you?"

Sam was relieved, but he didn't show it. "Well, uh… I'm writing a book about hauntings in famous places, and I came to do some research on the fair."

The man seemed surprised by that answer. "… Huh. Interesting topic."

Sam nodded. "So, would you mind answering a few questions for me?"

The man glanced at his watch and shrugged. "Well, I haven't got anything better to do until the rides open, so I might as well. Fire away."

Sam gave him a grateful smile. "Well, over your time working here have you noticed any cold spots?"

He considered this for a moment before shaking his head. "No, can't say I have."

Sam nodded, crossing that off of his mental checklist. "Okay, well… how about things moving without explanation? Objects going missing? Strange noises?"

He snorted. "It's an old park, son, and it's always full of people. That sort of thing is bound to happen fairly often."

Right. "Yeah, I suppose so," he said with a forced laugh, "alright, one more question. Have you noticed the smell of sulfur in the air? It's kind of like rotten eggs."

The man looked thoughtful. He frowned, brow furrowing. "… Hm. Yeah, now that I think about it. A couple of times years ago, and then yesterday."

Sam tensed. Yesterday. Oh, Dean was going to be furious. He wet his lips, managing a smile. "Great! Thank you, that's all I needed. You have a great day."

The man flashed him a smile, though there were questions behind his eyes. "Sure thing. You too."

Sam nodded and hurried off to find Dean. It was definitely a demon, though he'd never heard of one hanging around a fairground for fifty some-odd years. Or keeping a single vessel for that long, for that matter. This had to be a powerful one. He made it back to the cotton candy stand to see that Dean was nowhere to be found. He groaned. Oh, he didn't have time for this.

He pulled out his phone and dialed Dean's number. Unfortunately, it went straight to voicemail. He frowned. "Damn it Dean, pick up your phone or get your ass back to the cotton candy stand. This is important. Call me back." He hung up. _Shit_. When he could tell that a case was going to be bad before it had even really started, he knew it was going to be _bad._ He needed to talk to Dean. With a sigh, he approached the cotton candy stand. The young lady behind the counter was flushed, (most likely from his brother), and looked a little dreamy. He rapped his knuckles on the counter to get her attention. She let out a little squeak, jumping as her eyes focused. Sam blinked. She seemed familiar.

"What? Oh, I'm sorry sir! What can I get you?"

Sam gave her a charming smile. "Well, actually I'm looking for someone. My brother came over here a few minutes ago and now I can't find him. I don't suppose you know where he went?"

She blinked. "Oh, you mean the buff blond guy?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

She scrutinized him for a moment before nodding. "I figured; you look related."

That took the younger Winchester by surprise. "… Really?"

"Mhm."

Sam shook his head. No one had ever told him that before. He sighed. "Well, can you please tell me where he went?

"Oh, sure. He ran off to go ride the Extreme Scream."

Extreme Scream. That didn't sound good. "Great," he said, smile becoming rather fixed, "where is that?"

She gave him a dry look that made him realize that he had probably just asked an idiotic question. "There." She pointed, and he turned around. A second later he groaned.

"Thank you, ma'am." He raced towards it.

The Extreme Scream was a tower that could probably be seen from any location on the fairgrounds. Even as he watched, he could see a batch of people shot up into the air and then dropped. He shook his head. Dean wouldn't ride something like that unless he'd made some kind of bet, would he?

He picked up his pace, hoping to make it before he got on. Dealing with Dean after something like that would be near-impossible, especially if he threw up or something. The crowds didn't make the endeavor any easier; when he wasn't brandishing a weapon people didn't have much reason to jump out of his way. Luckily his height helped.

It didn't take as long as he'd expected to reach the ride, which was good. But of course, it was long enough.

"Dean, what the hell?!"

His older brother was sitting on one of the seats, being strapped in. His face was already pale as death, and he looked terrified. He looked up and gave Sam a nervous grin. "Heya, Sammy."

"What are you doing?" Sam demanded, glaring at him, "you know you don't do the whole ride thing!"

"Yeah, about tha—AAAAAAH!"

Sam watched as it started and Dean was shot up into the air like a bullet. He took a few steps back. No, this wasn't going to end well. What the hell could have possessed Dean to get onto the ride?

He bit his lip, thinking. There were only a few things that could make Dean do something like that. Either someone had insulted his manhood, made him a bet, or both.

After some careful consideration he decided that it had probably been the girl. Dean could never resist showing off to the ladies, especially ones that were interested in him—as the cotton candy girl obviously was. He sighed. "Damn it, Dean…"

Something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned. His eyes widened.

_Shit_, he thought for the second time today.

That was definitely him. The same deep coat, carefully tousled hair… the spitting image of, well, himself.

Sam was running towards him before he had time to think about it.


	3. Chapter 3

Wow, 14 followers already?! I'm flattered, guys, really. Just so you folks know I'm looking for a beta reader or two, so if anyone's interested feel free to drop me a message!

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Dean knew that he hated carnival rides. He'd known since the age of nine, when he'd thrown up on a rollercoaster the first and only time he'd visited one of those places. Ever since then he'd avoided them like the plague. Why, then, had he decided to try this one, even though he knew about his limitations?

To be frank he wasn't entirely sure. In his defense, it's difficult to make sense of things when you're hurtling through the air at fifty miles per hour.

The world around him was a terrible blur, and the world within him - namely his stomach - turned to absolute turmoil. Faster and faster, the ride gained speed. Dean could feel himself being lifted up out of his seat, and his heart leapt to his throat. A second later, the pie he had eaten earlier joined it.

Then it was shooting out of his mouth.

He was vaguely aware of horrified cries from below, and managed a tiny, amused smile before his upward momentum stopped and then he was falling. A scream that he would forcefully deny later on escaped him. This was a nightmare. Why had he agreed to do this? Sam was going to laugh at him for years about this. He would have worried about it more, but then he was throwing up again. He clung to the harness holding him in for dear life, screwing his eyes shut.

Finally, it stopped.

He cracked one eye open, glancing around. The harness lifted up, and he stumbled out of his seat. Someone caught his shoulder, and he glanced up. It was one of the employees. He looked concerned and a little bit amused. "You okay?"

Dean took a shaky breath and brushed his hand off of him, straightening. "Yeah, I'm good." He staggered towards the exit, trying to resist the urge to throw up again.

There was no way he was ever going to do that again.

He found a bench and sat down, taking a moment to catch his bearings. Sam. Where was Sam? He lifted his head up and looked around. Luckily, his brother was easy to spot; it was difficult not to be when you were the human equivalent of the Chrysler building.

Which was why he should have picked him out of the crowd immediately.

Dean frowned in worry, getting to his feet. Where was Sam? He turned in a circle, looking for the telltale mop of hair and whiny expression.

Nothing.

He felt his heart pick up. Sam had been there just a minute ago. He wouldn't have just run off unless something had happened. "Sam?!" he called.

His phone rang.

He picked it up quickly, putting it to his ear. "Sam?"

Sam sounded out of breath. "Hey, good to hear you… survived the ride. I saw him."

Dean was halfway through creating a snappy comeback when his brain processed what Sam had just said. He quickly focused on the matter at hand. "Saw who? The guy from the pictures?"

"Yeah. I chased him but he disappeared. Dean, this is a really powerful one."

He swore. "Well, no rest for the wicked I guess. Should we call Bobby?"

Sam was quiet for a moment. "… Not yet. I think we can handle it."

Dean nodded. "Right, okay. Where are you?"

"Um… the kid zone. I'll come back to you."

He snorted. "Seriously? You chased the dude into a ball pit or something?"

Sam cleared his throat "… House of mirrors, actually."

Dean laughed, grinning. "Right. Well, get your ass back here. We've got a demon to catch."


	4. Chapter 4

The pair had gone back to the motel to regroup and work out what to do. This demon seemed to be actively avoiding them, which either meant that it was scared or it had plans for them. Sam had been in this business long enough to assume the latter. So they'd have to find it, trap it, and kill it. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, except it wasn't hunting them.

"We need to find out more about this demon. It's definitely not one of our run-of-the-mill pawns."

Dean nodded, glancing up from his gun. "Yeah, you go ahead and do that."

Sam sighed and turned to his laptop, getting to work. At least researching was something that he could enjoy. The motel room fell into silence for a while, the only real sounds being the clicking of the keyboard and Dean cleaning and sharpening his various weapons.

"Well? Found anything?"

Sam blinked, looking up. "Huh?"

"You've been staring at your screen for like, two hours. Did you find anything?"

He cleared his throat and nodded. "Uh, yeah. A bit. I think I've got enough to go off of now." He turned his screen up so that his brother could see.

"There are a surprising amount of pictures of this guy if you look hard enough. Most of the time he's with someone else; he obviously doesn't travel alone."

"It," Dean corrected.

"Yeah. It. But look, here it is with Rose Tyler and Mickey Smith. Both of them have been missing for a few years now. And here's another one with a woman named Martha Jones, also missing. I found a few others of it in places like bars and nightclubs; it seems to be quite the socialite."

Dean nodded, studying the pictures. "That's fucked up. Okay, what do you think?"

Sam sighed, looking at the different pictures. "I don't know." He heard his brother sigh, and they both went silent, the wheels turning in their heads.

"Hey Sam, I think I've got it."

He glanced up, frowning. "Yeah? What do you think?"

Dean looked almost sheepish. "Well, all of these people are pretty damn attractive, don't you think?"

Sam frowned. "I dunno, I guess so. What are you getting at?"

Dean rolled his eyes, like he always did when he thought that Sam was missing the obvious. Which, to be fair, he probably was. "Well, maybe this thing is getting a bit of action from its victims before it kills them."

Sam groaned. Of course, that was where his brother's mind had gone. Although… "… I suppose that could be it. But we need to consider everything."

Dean rolled his eyes and pointed to another picture. "Dude, look at this chick! And that guy! It's pretty damn obvious if you ask me. This is a fucking serial demon, okay? There's no question."

Sam was still skeptical. It was a possibility, sure, but it wasn't exactly the most likely one. "I dunno, Dean, it just seems unlikely that that's the only connection."

Dean shrugged. "It's worth a try, isn't it? I say we find a bar and lure him that way."

"… Why a bar?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Where else do you pick up attractive people? Jeez, Sammy."

Sam sighed, rubbing his temples. "Well, how are we supposed to lure him out of there?"

He grinned. "I'll get him to come with us."

Sam was unimpressed. "You? Dean, that's too-"

"I'll have you to watch my back, won't I? How dangerous can it be?"

Sam shook his head. "Well, yes, but what if it gets you? What am I supposed to do then?"

Dean shrugged. "Dunno. I trust you, though; you can do it."

Sam glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "How do you know you're his type?"

He laughed. "Me? Come on, Sammy! I'm everyone's type!"

He couldn't help a grin at that, shaking his head. "… I suppose we can give it a shot. You ask around and see if we can figure out where he is and where he'll be. I'll keep researching."

Dean nodded and gave him a mock-salute. "Sounds great. Meet you back here in two hours. I'll bring dinner." He turned and walked out.

Sam's smile faded slightly. Two hours. Okay. He could live with two hours. He pulled out his phone and sent a text.

_"Dean's gone. He won't be back for a couple of hours. I need you."_

"Well, it's about time."

He jumped and turned around. He was met by Ruby's grin. "How's it going?"

"I've never heard of a demon like that."

Sam glanced up from the sink. Blood was being washed down the drain, and his face was dripping wet. "What?"

Ruby gave him a small smile. "There isn't a demon with that description around here. At least, not one who's supposed to be."

Sam nodded, drying his mouth. "Do you think it's gone rogue or something?"

Ruby shrugged. "Dunno. Could be."

He sighed, stepping out of the bathroom. "Great. So do we kill it?"

Ruby snorted. "You probably wouldn't be able to even if you tried; you've gotten flabby, Sam."

Sam frowned. "Ruby-"

"No, don't "Ruby" me with those big brown puppy eyes. It's not going to change the facts. You've gone soft. Why don't you just call the angel on Dean's shoulder to smite the bastard?"

Sam bit his lip. "Because, we can handle it ourselves. Dean and I have dealt with demons before, and-"

"You've dealt with _footsoldiers_ before, Sam. This one's obviously the real deal. Listen to me or not, I don't care. But if you get yourself killed, I get I told you so rights in Hell." She disappeared.

Sam sighed, running his hand through his hair. Great. He grabbed his laptop and sat down at the table, deciding to get started on the research he needed to do before Dean got back.

This was going to be a long day.

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Sooooo... I'm debating bringing Cas into this. What do you folks think? I'm taking a vote, so give a review saying whether or not you'd like to see him in this story and we'll see what happens. Also, I'm going to be out of town for a couple of weeks starting within the next few days, so I won't be able to update for a bit. Hopefully I'll get some writing done though; no wi fi to distract me.


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